


The Last Worthless Evening

by connorwalshruinedmylife (shewantstoplayhearts)



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Blind Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-08 10:30:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11644695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewantstoplayhearts/pseuds/connorwalshruinedmylife
Summary: Connor's perfectly fine being alone. Michaela and Asher have other ideas.





	1. Chapter 1

“You can’t be mad at us.”  
Connor eyes his friends suspiciously. “When that’s the first thing you say when you show up at my door unannounced, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be very happy with whatever it is you’re about to tell me.”  
Michaela ignores him and pushes past him into the apartment, Asher trailing behind her with a guilty look on his face.  
“I didn’t even invite you in,” Connor grumbles as he closes the door and follows them into the living room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You woke me up, by the way.”  
“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.” Michaela tells him.  
“So what? I’m a grown man, I can make my own sleep schedule.”  
“And what did you do last night?”   
“What’s with the third degree?” He’s starting to get annoyed.  
“Just tell us.” Michaela must realize she’s treading on thin ice, because she suddenly smiles at him sweetly. “Please.”  
“Fine. I just stayed home and worked on some case files.”  
“All night?”   
He nods, frowning. “Yeah, why?”  
“And what about last weekend? What did you do then?”  
“What is this, an interrogation?”  
“Just humor us. Please.”  
Connor groans. “Fine. I stayed home all last weekend working on case files, too.”  
“And the weekend before that?”  
“Same thing.”  
“Exactly. It’s been the same thing, every weekend.”  
“I have a demanding job.”  
Michaela fixes him with a level stare. “We work at the same firm, Connor. I know your job doesn’t require you to sit at home by yourself every weekend.”  
“What’s your point?” It’s a futile question, he already knows the answer.  
“You can’t keep hiding yourself away from the world, Connor.”  
And there it is. Connor tenses.  
Michaela sighs, her voice going softer. “It’s been over two years. He’d want you to be happy. You know he would.”  
“I am happy,” Connor defends himself.  
“Coming home to an empty apartment and isolating yourself from human interaction is not being happy, and you know it.”  
Connor bristles. “Did you guys just decide to come over to my apartment to attack me?”  
“We’re not attacking you, Connor.” Asher finally speaks up. “We’re just concerned about you.”  
“I’m fine!”   
“You went through one of the hardest things anyone could ever go through. No one’s saying you can’t miss him, but do you really think you’re honoring his memory by not living? He loved you so much, Connor. He wouldn’t want this for you.”  
Connor sighs, knowing it’s a lost cause to keep arguing. He runs a hand through his hair, making a face when he realizes how greasy it is. He needs a shower, stat.  
“I’m assuming you already have someone picked out for me, since you’re being so incessantly annoying about it?”   
Michaela claps her hands together. “His name’s Oliver. He’s expecting to meet you at Bank & Bourbon at eight tonight.”  
“And where did you meet this Oliver?”  
Asher and Michaela exchange guilty looks.  
“Michaela.” Connor stares at her. “Tell me. Now.”  
“Okay, this is the part where you have to promise you won’t be mad at us.” She looks nervous now.  
“What did you do?”   
“We signed you up for an online dating site and we’ve been screening dates for you.” Asher says it so fast that Connor think he’s misheard him for a second.  
“You what?”   
His friends flinch when they hear the anger in his voice.   
“You said you wouldn’t be mad.”  
“I didn’t actually agree to that. How dare you just go behind my back like that?”  
“We only did it because we love you, Connor.” Michaela tells him. “And we wouldn’t be asking you to go on a date with just anyone. It’s taken us months to find someone we consider good enough for you.”  
“ _Months_?” Connor utters incredulously. “How long have you been doing this for?”  
“That doesn’t matter.” Michaela waves her hand, dismissing the question. “Just promise us you’ll go out with him tonight. You don’t have to see him again if you don’t want to, but at least try let yourself have a good time.”  
Connor sighs heavily, only slightly exaggerating it. He’s annoyed, but deep down he knows they think they’re doing the right thing. “Fine. But you owe me, because I’m only doing this for you.”  
“We’ll let you be godfather to our son.” Michaela rests a hand on her prominent stomach.  
“You’ve already asked me to be the godfather.”  
“Yeah well, we can always take it back and ask Wes instead, so…”  
“I hate you, you know that, right?”   
“Love you too, Connor.”

-

Connor’s been standing outside the restaurant for over ten minutes, trying to work up the nerve to go inside. He feels absolutely ridiculous; a grown man scared of a blind date.   
“I just wish you’d give me a sign,” he whispers into the cool autumn air. There’s no response, of course, and his heart aches.   
He shoves his hands in his pockets and closes his eyes, shifting from foot to foot, trying to will himself to move forward.  
“Hey, are you coming in or what?”  
He opens his eyes and sees a couple walking into the restaurant, the guy is holding the door open and looking back at Connor expectantly. All Connor can see is the guy’s Burberry sweater. It’s the same one he’d bought for Jamie for their last Christmas together, before he’d gotten sick again. He knows he’s being stupid, that it’s just a coincidence, but he lets himself think for a moment that Jamie really is looking out for him, that he really is giving Connor a sign that it’s okay to be here.  
He takes a deep breath and nods, grabbing the door from the guy and following the couple into the restaurant.   
Oliver is sitting at the bar, nursing the last dregs of a beer and checking his watch.   
_He’s cuter in person_ , Connor thinks. The photo Michaela and Asher had shown him earlier didn’t do him justice. He makes his way across the room and sinks down onto the stool next to Oliver, who startles when he looks up and realizes he’s sitting there.  
“Sorry I’m late,” Connor smiles ruefully.   
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up,” Oliver says.  
 “Sorry.” Connor apologizes again. He doesn’t really know what else to say to this man; he’d been so preoccupied with the effort it took to force himself to get there that he hadn’t even thought about the date itself.  
“Hey, it’s fine,” Oliver looks at him curiously for a moment, then smiles. “Do you want a drink?”  
Connor nods, and Oliver signals to the bartender. He orders another beer, and Connor follows suite. He’d prefer something stronger to calm his nerves, but he doesn’t want to end up getting too drunk and embarrassing himself. He doesn’t know why he cares, he’s never going to see Oliver again after tonight.  
“So, you’re a lawyer?” Oliver asks him, sipping his beer.  
“Yeah, a defense attorney. I’m only an associate, hoping to make partner soon though.”  
 “Defense attorney, huh? What’s that like?”  
“I enjoy it, most days. It can get a bit morally hard to deal with, sometimes, when I have a client I know is guilty as sin.” Connor purses his lips. “Those are the days I force myself to just focus on doing my job. And if I win the case, I go home and have a few drinks and hope to God that justice is served some other way.”  
“Sounds rough,” Oliver winces sympathetically.  
“It can be.” Connor shrugs, then smiles. “It’s worth dealing with the hard ones though, because nothing feels better than winning a case for a client who’s innocent.”  
“Must be nice, to make a difference.” Oliver runs his finger down the side of his glass, wiping away some precipitation. “My job is just me staring at a computer screen all day.”  
“IT, right?” Connor tries to remember what his friends had told him about Oliver’s profile.  
“Yeah.” Oliver nods. “It’s not very exciting. I’m ready to quit, but I’m just trying to figure out what else I’d want to do.”  
“Well, I hope you figure it out.”  
“Thanks.” Oliver grins at him.   
He has a really nice smile, Connor can’t help but notice. He suddenly feels nervous, so he takes a long sip of his beer to give himself something to do.  
“So, did you grow up around here?”  
Oliver nods. “Yeah, I’m a Philly native, born and raised. What about you?”  
“Michigan. I moved here for law school and ended up staying.”  
They make small talk for a while, then Oliver leans back and squints at him.  
“You’re not what I expected.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You seem different to how you were online.”  
Connor groans and rubs his forehead.  
“Yeah, that wasn’t me. My friends signed me up for the site and were posing as me without my knowledge.” He confesses. “I didn’t even know you existed until this afternoon. Sorry to disappoint you.”  
“I never said I was disappointed.” Oliver smiles softly. “I like you better in person, anyway. I didn’t think you’d be able to have a conversation without throwing in some sex jokes every five minutes, so it’s been a nice surprise.”  
Connor rolls his eyes. “That would’ve been my friend Asher. For a straight guy, he really is obsessed with gay sex.”  
“Well that’s a relief. I was expecting you to be some overly-confident jackass who can’t stop talking about how good he is in bed.”  
“You still agreed to go out with me, even though you thought I was a douche?”  
Oliver shrugs. “I thought you were hot. Now I think you’re hot and interesting.”  
A slight blush is tinging his cheeks, and Connor can’t help but think he’s adorable.  
“I am though,” he wiggles his eyebrows at Oliver, who looks at him questioningly. “Good in bed, I mean.”  
“Oh my god, shut up,” Oliver laughs.  
It feels weird, to be flirting with someone who isn’t Jamie, and Connor feels slightly guilty about it. But, he hates to admit it, Michaela and Asher had done a great job choosing Oliver. The other man is quiet and unassuming, and he seems to genuinely enjoy Connor’s company. He’s easy to talk to, Connor thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s had a conversation with a stranger that isn’t stilted and filled with awkward silences.  
They finish their drinks, and Oliver pays for Connor’s even though he tells him he doesn’t need to.  
“It’s the least I could do, you weren’t even planning on going out tonight until your friends forced you to.”  
“I’m glad they did,” Connor tells him, his voice quiet, and Oliver smiles at him again.  
They head outside, and Oliver holds the door for him, then ends up having to hold it while a family of five enter, their elderly grandmother taking her time getting inside. Connor wonders if Oliver is always so generous and helpful to the people around him, or if he’s just trying to impress Connor. Something tells him it’s the former.  
“Do you want to go back to my place?” Oliver looks at him hopefully as he finally lets go of the door. “I don’t live too far from here.”  
Connor can feel his heart tug, but he nods and smiles at Oliver anyway. “Sure.”

  
The cab ride to Oliver’s apartment is short, and before Connor knows it he’s standing awkwardly in the middle of Oliver’s living room while the other man hurriedly cleans a pile of books off his couch.  
“Sorry about this, I forgot to put these away earlier.”  
“It’s fine,” Connor assures him. Oliver’s finally done clearing the space, so Connor takes a seat and tries to calm his nerves.  
Oliver sits down beside him, and Connor turns to look at him. They both know why he came here.  
Oliver’s lips are soft as they hesitantly press against his. It feels so good, has been so damn long since Connor’s had this, and he deepens their kiss, leaning back and tugging Oliver on top of him. The other man shifts so Connor can move his legs up onto the couch and lay down properly, then lowers himself on top of Connor again, reconnecting their mouths. Connor’s starting to think that he can go through with this, but then Oliver grinds down, pressing their clothed groins together, and he can’t help the tears that suddenly fill his eyes.   
Connor turns his face away, feeling embarrassed, and Oliver sits up.  
“What’s wrong?” He looks so goddamn _concerned_ , which just makes Connor feel worse.  
He wipes the tears from his eyes and takes a deep breath.  
“Did my friends tell you about my…” His voice trails off. He isn’t sure if he should say his name, or if he should still call him his husband. He isn’t his husband anymore, but Connor feels like to just use his name wouldn’t honor just how important Jamie was – is – to him.  
“Your husband?” Oliver fills in for him, and he nods. “Yeah, he was mentioned briefly.”  
“This is the first date I’ve gone on since…since it happened.” Connor can feel his hands start to tremble. “I thought I was ready but I’m not. I’m so sorry I wasted your time.”  
He sits up and starts reaching down to slip his shoes back on, when Oliver rests a hand on his arm.  
“Connor, it’s okay. You don’t need to go.” He squints at Connor. “I’m not upset or anything. I actually really like you, and I think we could at least be friends. I mean, we seemed to get on well enough at the bar, in my opinion.”  
Connor nods, wiping away a stray tear that’s about to make its way down his cheek.  
“So stay. We can watch a movie and just hang out.”  
“Okay.” Connor abandons his shoes and sinks back onto the couch. Oliver smiles at him gently.  
“Do you want anything to drink? I’m going to make myself some hot chocolate.”  
“That sounds amazing,” Connor tells him, still feeling embarrassed. “Can I use the restroom?”  
“Yeah, it’s through the bedroom.” Oliver points the way, then heads into the kitchen.  
Connor takes his time in the restroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror until he barely recognizes himself.   
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he whispers. He wipes his eyes again, then fixes his hair and heads back out into the living room.  
He’s just taken his seat again when Oliver comes back, bringing two mugs and handing one to Connor. There’s a bunch of tiny marshmallows floating on top, which Connor finds oddly endearing.   
“Thanks.” He takes a sip and smiles as Oliver sits down beside him.  
“You doing okay?”  
He nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that.”  
“Stop apologizing. You’re not ready, it’s not your fault.” He reaches for the remote on the coffee table and switches on the tv. “What are you in the mood to watch?”  
“I don’t mind, you pick something.” He curls up onto the sofa, sipping at his hot chocolate while Oliver searches through the movies on demand. He finally settles on one, some comedy that Connor’s already seen, but he doesn’t say anything.  
They’re only about a third of the way through the movie when Connor starts yawning. He’s suddenly so tired he can barely keep his eyes open. Oliver looks at him, then holds out his arm and indicates for Connor to come closer.  
“I’ve been told I’m a good nap buddy,” Oliver tells him. “No ulterior motives, I promise.”  
His warm brown eyes are looking at him, expression soft, and Connor thinks Oliver’s probably the sincerest person he knows. He moves over and cuddles up against the other man, sighing contentedly. He hadn’t expected to feel so comfortable around him.  
“You’re right, you’re a pretty decent pillow.”  
He must fall asleep, because the next thing he’s aware of is Oliver shifting them so they’re both laying on the couch, Connor still in his arms. The room is silent and dark, and Connor wonders how long ago the movie ended. He thinks about letting Oliver know he’s awake, thinks about leaving and going back to his own apartment, but the thought of spending another night alone suddenly feels suffocating. It’s been so long since he’s been held like this, and he doesn’t want it to end yet. He lays quiet in Oliver’s arms, listening to the other man’s breath evening out as he falls asleep, and as he drifts back to sleep himself he’s surprised to realize that he doesn’t wish it was Jamie holding him.

-

  
He’s alone on the couch when he wakes up in the morning, but he can hear Oliver moving around the kitchen. He can also smell bacon frying, and he gets up and stumbles his way into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Oliver’s face lights up when he sees him.  
“Morning, sleepyhead. I always make myself french toast and bacon for breakfast on Sundays, so I made you some too, in case you wanted it.”  
“Thanks,” Connor settles down at the counter, and Oliver plates their food, then joins him.  
They eat in comfortable silence, only speaking once they’re done.  
“That was delicious, Ollie. Thanks.” The nickname slips out so easily it startles Connor a bit.   
Oliver just smiles at him. “You’re welcome.”   
Connor doesn’t want to leave Oliver’s company, but he also doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, so he gets up and stretches.  
“I should probably head home.”  
“Oh. Okay.” Oliver looks disappointed, but he follows Connor back into the living room and waits while he slips his shoes on.  
Connor pauses in the doorway, turning to face the other man.  
“Hey Oliver? Would you want to try the whole date thing again sometime?”  
Oliver beams at him. “I’d love to. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”  
“Okay.” Connor presses a quick kiss to Oliver’s cheek. “Thank you, for everything.”  
They exchange phone numbers, and Connor leaves. He can feel Oliver’s eyes on him as he walks away.  
He stops on the sidewalk outside the building and pulls out his phone. He sends the text before he can change his mind.  
**Dinner tonight?**  
Oliver’s response is immediate:  
**Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot, but I decided to keep it going after some of you requested more. Hopefully it isn't a disappointment. I'm not sure how long it's going to end up being, but there'll be at least a few more longer chapters after this one.

Connor doesn’t go home immediately. Instead, he heads over to Michaela and Asher’s place, desperately needing to talk to his best friends. He repeatedly rings their doorbell and knocks obnoxiously, not caring how annoying he’s being, reasoning to himself that they deserve it after they’d ambushed him yesterday. The door finally swings open, and Asher is glaring at him.  
“Connor, what the hell?”  
“I need to talk to you.” Connor all but pushes past Asher and heads into the living room, where he collapses on the couch dramatically.  
Michaela eyes him from her seat. “What’s going on?”  
“Okay, first of all, and this really pains me to say it, so I’m only going to say it this once, but… you were right.”  
“Of course we were.” Asher gloats, and Connor rolls his eyes at the smug look on his friends’ faces. “What were we right about this time?”  
“Oliver. He’s…” Connor’s voice trails off as he tries to think of how to phrase what he wants to say. “He’s special.”  
He tells them about the date, including how he’d cried, which is so damn _embarrassing_ but they’re his best friends and they’ve seen him at his worst, and right now he needs them to know everything.  
“I asked him out again tonight, to make up for last night,” he tells them, and Michaela squeals with excitement. “I really want to get to know him, but I feel so guilty at the same time. Like, if I can fall for someone else this quickly, did I ever really love Jamie?”  
He feels his eyes getting wet, and he squeezes them shut, trying to will the tears away.  
“Of course you did.” Michaela moves to sit beside him, wrapping her arms around him. “No one can question how much you and Jamie loved each other, Connor. It was obvious to anyone who saw you together. But he’s been gone for a while now, and you’ve been in so much pain and grieved for so long, but you can’t keep living this way. You deserve to be happy again.”  
“What if I start to forget about him?” Connor asks softly. “I’m so scared that I’ll wake up one morning and suddenly not remember the exact shade of blue his eyes were, or his laugh, or what it felt like to kiss him.”  
“But that’s bound to happen regardless of whether you’re with someone else or not. All memories fade a bit, don’t they? You might not remember the exact details, but somewhere inside of you, you’ll always know how much you two loved each other. You’ll never forget that, Connor.” Michaela’s crying now, too. “If it were the other way around, you’d want him to be happy, right? You wouldn’t want him to spend the rest of his life alone, would you?”  
“Of course not.” Connor sighs. “I guess you’re right.”  
“Asher, go get us something to drink, and then Connor can tell us more about Oliver.” Michaela points her husband towards the kitchen.  
Connor finds himself smiling despite his tears. “Sounds good.”  
  
- 

He makes sure he gets to the restaurant early, not wanting Oliver to be left waiting for him two nights in a row. He’s starting to feel nervous, worrying that the connection he thought they both so clearly felt was just a fluke, that they’d end up not having much to talk about and this entire thing will end up being just a waste of his time and emotions.  
But then he sees Oliver walking towards him, and his breath catches. Oliver looks so happy to see him, he isn’t even trying to play it cool like most guys would have, and Connor can feel himself falling. Connor stands and greets him, unable to keep the smile off his own face.  
“You look good,” he tells him as they sit down, eyeing the way Oliver’s sweater is just tight enough to show his toned arms.  
Oliver blushes slightly. “Same to you.”  
“Thanks again for being so understanding last night,” Connor says. “This whole thing is just very new for me.”  
“Hey, don’t even worry about it.” Oliver smiles at him encouragingly. “We’ll take things at your pace. I’m just glad you wanted to go out with me again.”  
Connor nods. “Of course I wanted to see you again, Ollie. I mean, I’m definitely going to need more of that french toast of yours sometime soon.”  
“Oh, so that’s the only reason you asked me out again?”  
“Well, obviously,” Connor winks at him, and Oliver laughs.  
They decide to split a bottle of wine with dinner, and soon their cheeks are flushed and Connor is just so, so happy for the first time in years.  
Connor insists on paying this time, telling Oliver that he can get the next dinner. Oliver’s smile widens at that.  
Oliver takes hold of his hand as they’re walking out of the restaurant.  
“It’s still early,” he looks a bit nervous, suddenly. “Do you want to come back to my place again?”  
Connor nods. “Okay.”  
Relief floods Oliver’s face, and Connor smiles at him, tightening his grip on Oliver’s hand as the other man waves down a taxi. He sits pressed up against Oliver the entire ride, praying to a God he doesn’t believe in that he’ll be able to go through with it this time. He still feels conflicted about being with someone who isn’t Jamie, but he knows his friends are right. He knows that he needs to start moving on, and he’s so damn lucky to have found someone like Oliver to try move on with.  
He trails behind Oliver into the apartment, and as soon as Oliver closes the door, he spins him around and pushes him up against it.  
“What are you-“  
Connor interrupts Oliver’s sentence, pressing his lips firmly against the other man’s. Oliver responds immediately, his hands reaching up to hold Connor’s cheeks as their kiss deepens. He starts walking Connor backwards, guiding him towards the bedroom, not breaking their kiss until Connor feels the mattress hit the back of his legs. He pulls back and looks at Connor questioningly, and Connor feels so overwhelmed by how much he wants this man. He nods eagerly, and Oliver pulls him into another kiss as they fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.  
Connor reaches for the hem of Oliver’s sweater, tugging it up. They separate quickly, and both hurry to strip down to their underwear. Connor moves so his head is on the pillow, and Oliver straddles him, leaning down to kiss him again. Oliver shifts so he’s laying down on top of him, and the feeling of skin on skin is almost overwhelming to Connor.  
“Tell me if you want to stop,” Oliver tells him between kisses, and Connor shakes his head desperately.  
“I don’t want to stop.”  
Oliver slips his thumb under the waistband of Connor’s boxer-briefs, pulling them down at the same time as his own. He takes hold of Connor’s already hardening cock, stroking him until he’s fully hard and leaking precum.  
“You’re so gorgeous,” Oliver whispers, and Connor lets out a low whine, thrusting his hips up to try chase more friction. Oliver thumbs over his slit, then starts spreading the precum over Connor’s dick. He’s also fully hard by this point, and he moves so he’s on top of Connor again, their dicks pressed together between them. He starts thrusting forward, and Connor bends his legs, pressing his feet onto the back of Oliver’s thighs. He grasps desperately at Oliver’s back, trying to pull him closer. Connor comes first, and Oliver rolls off him, jacking himself off quickly until he comes too. They lay beside each other, catching their breath, then Oliver gets up and heads into the bathroom. He comes back a moment later with a damp washcloth and cleans Connor’s stomach, then wipes up his own mess as well. He tosses the washcloth into his laundry basket, then crawls up the bed to lay beside Connor, pulling him into his arms.  
Connor can’t keep the smile off his face; it’s been so long since he’s had this kind of intimacy with anyone, and the fact that it’s _Oliver_ holding him, kind, sweet, hot as fuck Oliver, leaves him feeling giddy.  
“I’m so happy right now,” he says softly. He doesn’t want to disturb the quiet calmness that’s settled between them, but he feels like he needs to tell Oliver. “I mean, not just because of what we did. I just…I’m really glad I met you, Ollie.”  
“Likewise,” Oliver kisses him. “I feel like I need to buy your friends a gift or something, to thank them for setting us up.”  
Connor laughs. “Oh god, they’re going to be insufferable.”  
Oliver turns onto his side, propping his head up on his hand, and looks down at Connor.  
“I need to be honest with you. It’s nothing bad,” he says quickly, when he sees Connor’s face fall slightly. “I just need you to know that I like you. A lot. And I know you’re not ready for anything serious, but I want to be with you, in whatever capacity you’re ready for.”  
Connor’s mind is racing, and Oliver must take his silence as rejection, because he rolls onto his back and places his arm over his eyes, hastily adding, “I know it’s too soon, we’ve only known each other for just over 24 hours. I shouldn’t have said anything.”  
“Ollie, no,” Connor reaches for his arm, pulling it away from his face so he can look at Oliver’s face. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way about someone again, and I definitely didn’t think I’d fall this fast. I’m not gonna lie…I’m really not sure what I’m ready for, but whatever it is, I want it to be with you.”  
The smile that spreads across Oliver’s face makes his heart skip a beat.  
“This is crazy, isn’t it?” Connor asks quietly, staring into Oliver’s eyes. “You have me feeling like a teenager with a crush all over again.”  
“Likewise.” Oliver kisses him again. “I know we have work in the morning, but do you want to stay the night again?”  
“Only if you promise to make me more french toast for breakfast.” Connor teases.  
“I’m starting to think you like my french toast more than you like me.”  
“Oh no, don’t worry, I like both of you equally.”  
“Oh yeah?” Oliver rolls on top of him again, his eyes darkening. “Well, let’s see if I can make you like me more.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kind comments, everyone :) I'm currently stuck on bed rest, so I'll probably have the next chapter up tomorrow.

The next month passes in a blur of dates and nights spent in each other’s arms, and Connor can’t get enough of being around Oliver. He quickly becomes the best part of Connor’s day, which both scares and excites him.  
They’re curled up on the couch eating Thai takeout one night, when Oliver speaks up hesitantly.  
“Hey Connor? As much as I enjoy our little bubble of being here alone together, am I ever going to meet your friends?”  
“You want to?”  
“Of course I want to,” Oliver looks at him, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I want to meet my boyfriend’s friends?”  
Connor raises his eyebrows. “Boyfriend?”  
“Well, yeah…this feels like more than just casual dating, doesn’t it?” Oliver stammers awkwardly, his expression becoming panicked. “Shit, forget I said anything. We said we’d take things slow and now I’ve gone and made this awkward.”  
Connor can’t help but laugh, and when Oliver looks at him with a frown, he leans over and kisses him quickly. He pulls out his phone and dials while Oliver watches him in confusion.  
There’s no answer, so he leaves a message.  
“Hey Michaela, my boyfriend wants to meet you guys this weekend. Call me.”  
He hangs up and tosses his phone aside, turning to look at Oliver.  
“Of course this is more than casual dating, Ollie. We’ve seen each other almost every day since we met. I’m sorry I haven’t introduced you to them yet.”  
Oliver kisses him. “You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m just happy we’re both on the same page with our relationship.”  
Connor smiles, but he feels his heart ache slightly. He wonders how long it’ll take for him to stop feeling so guilty about being with someone else.

 -

 

The first thing Connor’s aware of is the light softly spilling in through the crack in the curtain. He glances at the alarm clock beside the bed and sees that it’s not even 6:30 yet, still too early to start getting ready for work.  
Oliver’s naked body is pressed up against his, curving around him, holding him close. He’s solid and warm, and Connor sighs in contentment. He lays still until he feels Oliver begin to stir behind him, then slips out of his embrace and straddles him. Oliver smiles sleepily up at him.  
“Morning.”  
“Shh.” Connor threads their fingers together, holding Oliver’s arms above his head. “No talking.”  
He trails kisses along Oliver’s jawline, moving down towards his chest. He lets go of Oliver’s hands, but the other man keeps them still. Connor works his way down Oliver’s body until he reaches his hardening dick, taking the tip into his mouth. He sucks gently, wrapping his hand around the base and starting to stroke it. He raises his eyes and sees Oliver staring down at him, eyes filled with lust, and starts bobbing his head, taking more of Oliver into his mouth. He has to hold Oliver’s hips down, to keep him from bucking up as he whimpers and writhes on the bed.  
“Wait, wait.” Oliver tugs at his hair, and Connor releases him with a pop. He frowns at Oliver.  
“What?”  
“I wanna fuck you.”  
Oliver rolls them over before Connor can respond, kissing him again passionately, turning it into something dirty. Connor reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing the bottle of lube they’d left there and handing it to Oliver. He slides a pillow underneath his hips to give Oliver better access and spreads his legs, waiting impatiently for Oliver to slick his fingers up.  
“Would you hurry up?”  
“So demanding,” Oliver teases, but he’s also pushing a finger inside of him at the same time, so Connor doesn’t complain.  
The other man is clearly as desperate as Connor is, because he opens Connor up a lot faster than he usually would, and before he knows it, Oliver’s entering him slowly, sinking into him, giving him time to adjust before he starts moving.  
“I’m ready,” Connor tells him, and Oliver pulls back before thrusting forward again, hard and fast. He grips Connor’s thighs tightly, pushing them up as he fucks into him deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, only interrupted by their moans. Connor’s nails scratch at Oliver’s back as he digs his fingers into him, trying to pull him closer.  
“You feel so good, baby,” Oliver gasps out. “So damn good.”  
They come almost at the same time, then lay panting beside each other. Oliver turns onto his side to look at Connor, a blissed-out smile on his face.  
“I could get used to being woken up like that.”  
Connor grins. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind, boyfriend.”  
  
-

 

They go out for dinner with Michaela and Asher that Friday night. His friends get along with Oliver immediately, which isn’t a surprise since they’re the ones who were talking to him online, but it still makes Connor happy. Connor sits back and watches their banter with his boyfriend, and he can’t help but smile the entire night. Both Asher and Michaela give him discreet thumbs ups when Oliver isn’t looking, and Connor rolls his eyes at them, but his smile widens.  
“Connor came over the morning after your first date,” Michaela’s telling Oliver, her smile wicked as she teases Connor. “He was completely smitten with you. It was kind of embarrassing, actually.”  
“I was not!”  
“Oh please,” Asher joins in. “You were clutching your hand to your heart, thanking us for helping you meet your soulmate.”  
“I really did not do that,” Connor turns to Oliver. “I swear I wasn’t that over the top.”  
Oliver just laughs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Really, though, I do want to thank you guys for catfishing me. I’d never have met Connor otherwise.”  
Asher looks smugly at Michaela. “See, our meddling does pay off.”  
“For God’s sake, Ollie. Don’t encourage them.” Connor pretends to pout. “They’re going to be insufferable from now on.”  
The three men are buzzed on alcohol by the end of dinner, Michaela stuck drinking soda due to her pregnancy. Oliver promises to take her out drinking once she’s had the baby, and she makes him put his number into her phone, saying it’s to make sure he’ll keep his word. Connor’s pretty sure she just wants a way to be nosy and to contact Oliver to gossip about Connor, but he doesn’t mind. He’s just so happy that all his favorite people are getting along, and that he no longer has to be the third wheel with his friends.  
They curl up on the couch once they get home, Connor laying with his head in Oliver’s lap while the other man plays with his hair. Oliver’s put on some show that Connor doesn’t think is very interesting, but he doesn’t care because he is just so, so happy to just _be_ with Oliver.  


 -

It’s Jamie’s 31st birthday a few weeks later. Or, it would have been. Connor wakes up that morning, his heart heavy, and there’s a gloomy cloud that hangs over him as they’re both getting ready for work. Oliver can tell something is wrong, but Connor just shakes his head when he asks him. Oliver drops him off at work, kisses him goodbye, and Connor watches him drive off before he starts walking away from the building. He wanders around aimlessly, ignoring his phone when it rings. It’s probably someone from the office, wanting to find out where he is. He can’t be bothered to deal with coming up with an excuse. He doesn’t think his boss will care very much that it’s his dead husband’s birthday.    
It’s mid-morning when he finally hails a cab, heading back to his apartment. He barely spends any time there anymore, choosing to sleep over at Oliver’s as much as possible. Oliver has never seen his apartment; Connor doesn’t think it would be right to bring a new man into the home he’d shared with Jamie.  
He feels numb as he walks around the apartment, remembering happier times. He finally ends up in the bedroom, where he strips down and pulls on Jamie’s favorite sweater. It still smells like him, Connor thinks, but he knows it’s been too long and he’s probably just fooling himself. He switches his phone off and curls up in a ball on the bed, finally letting himself fall apart.  
“I miss you so much, Jamie. Why did you leave me?” He wails, his hands clenching at the bedsheets. “Why the fuck did you have to leave me??”  
He finally falls asleep like that, his cheeks still damp with tears.  
  
It’s pitch black when he wakes up. He switches on his phone and sees that it’s past 10pm. His phone gets flooded with notifications; missed calls and texts from Oliver and Michaela and Asher. There’s a voicemail too, so he chooses to listen to that first. Oliver’s stressed out voice sounds tinny through the phone’s speaker.  
“Connor? Please call me. Michaela said she hasn’t seen you all day and I’m really worried about you.”  
He feels like shit. Oliver is so, so sweet and cares about him so much. And Connor’s just so selfish, letting him fall for him while he’s still so torn up over another man. But he needs Oliver, needs the other man to comfort him, so he calls him before he can change his mind.  
Oliver answers immediately, like he’s been staring at his phone waiting for it to ring.  
“Connor? Are you okay?”  
“Ollie,” Connor’s voice is hoarse from all the crying he’d done, and he clears his throat. “I need you to come get me.”  
“Where are you? I’m on my way.”  
He gives Oliver the address, then hangs up, promising to meet him outside. He changes while he waits, pulling on something else comfortable. He doesn’t want to bring Jamie’s sweater with him to Oliver’s place.  
He’s waiting out front when Oliver pulls up fifteen minutes later. Connor gets into the car, feeling guilty when he sees how worried Oliver looks.  
“I’m sorry.” He keeps his eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him.  
“What happened? Where are we?”  
Connor sighs. “This is my apartment. I just…I needed to be alone today.”  
Oliver is silent, and Connor finally looks up at him.  
“Are you mad at me?”  
“I’m not mad,” Oliver says, but his voice sounds strained. “I’m just confused, I guess.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
Oliver starts driving, and Connor rests his head on the window, staring out at nothing.  
“Michaela told me what today is,” Oliver finally speaks.  
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Connor snaps. “Thank you for picking me up, and I’m sorry for making you worry, I really am, but I don’t want to talk about my dead husband with you right now.”  
They’re both silent for the remainder of the drive. Connor follows Oliver up to his apartment, trailing behind him quietly. He can tell Oliver is hurt, and it just makes him feel worse. They climb into bed, and Oliver lays with his back to Connor. Connor moves so he’s right behind him, then wraps an arm around Oliver’s waist. He feels Oliver stiffen slightly before he relaxes into Connor’s embrace. Neither of them speak, and Connor stays awake, listening to Oliver’s breath finally evening out as he falls asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

They go over to Asher and Michaela’s house to ring in the New Year together. Wes and Laurel are there too, and Connor’s pleased to see how quickly they take to Oliver.   
He’s leaning against the wall, sipping on a beer and watching Oliver laughing with his friends, when Michaela approaches him.  
“Stop staring at your boyfriend, Connor. It’s creepy.”  
Connor blushes, looking away.  
“How does your beer taste?”  
“It’s alright.” Connor side eyes her. “Why?”  
Michaela sighs. “Sorry, I’m just trying to live vicariously through you. I can’t wait until I can drink again.”  
Connor clucks sympathetically. “Must be rough.”  
“You have no idea.” She rests her hand on her stomach, sighing. “It’ll be worth it though.”  
She looks over at Oliver, then shifts her gaze back to Connor.  
“It’s good to see you happy again.”  
Connor laughs. “Are you trying to get me to thank you for setting us up again?”  
“Well I wouldn’t mind a bit more praise for my genius match-making skills,” she preens. “But seriously, I’m happy for you. We were starting to worry that you’d never get out of your slump.”  
He knows that she doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, knows that she would never dismiss what he’s gone through, but it still hurts to hear her refer to the hell he’d lived in for the past few years as nothing more than a slump.  
She’s oblivious to the way her word choice has made him feel, and he just stands beside her, pretending to listen to her talking, and trying to keep his emotions under control. Oliver glances across the room at him, and he quickly averts his eyes, hoping the other man hasn’t seen how upset he is. When he dares to look over again, Oliver is frowning into his glass of wine.  
  


He’s walking past the kitchen later in the night, when he overhears Oliver talking to Michaela. He pauses just outside the door, keeping himself out of view.  
“I’m not going to lie, it’s hard sometimes. It’s like he has these walls up and no matter how hard I try, he refuses to let me in. It’s exhausting, you know? To care about someone so much and to have them hold back such a huge part of themselves from you.”  
Michaela starts to respond, but Connor doesn’t stick around to hear what she has to say. He slips away before they notice him, feeling stung by Oliver’s words. He rejoins the rest of his friends in the living room, pretending to smile and join in with the festivities as they count down to midnight. He lets Oliver pull him into a kiss, but his heart isn’t in it, and he’s pretty sure Oliver can tell something’s bothering him.   
“Can we leave?” He asks him after they break apart. “I’m tired.”  
Oliver frowns, but he nods. “Okay.”  
They say goodbye to their friends, and Connor avoids making eye contact with any of them. He isn’t in the mood for any questions about why they’re leaving early.

 

Connor waits until they’re back at Oliver’s apartment, getting ready for bed, before he brings it up.  
“I overheard what you said to Michaela.”   
Oliver looks confused for a moment, then understanding dawns in his eyes.  
“Connor, I didn’t –“ he starts to say, but Connor shakes his head, silencing him.  
“Does it really bother you that much, that I still get sad about Jamie sometimes?” He can’t keep the hurt out of his voice.  
Oliver scratches the back of his head, sighing. “It’s not that. I just…god, Connor, I want to be with you so much, but not if I’m just wasting my time. I know you’re still hurting over losing him, and I’m trying so damn hard to be understanding, but it sucks, okay? It really fucking sucks not knowing if I’ll ever be enough for you.”  
Connor’s eyes fill with tears, and he bites his lower lip to try to maintain his composure.  
“Wow, okay. Sorry my husband’s death is so hard for you to cope with.”  
Oliver groans in frustration. “That’s not what I meant, Connor, and you know that.”  
“I don’t feel like I know anything anymore.” He grabs a pillow off the bed and looks at Oliver. “It’s too late to call a cab. I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”  
“Connor,” Oliver tries to speak, but Connor just shakes his head.  
“Drop it, Oliver.”  
He lays awake for hours, his thoughts all over the place and his heart aching, and his eyes are just starting to droop shut when the sky starts getting lighter outside.   
“Happy fucking New Year,” he mumbles, shutting his eyes and placing the pillow over his face.

 

 

-

He’s woken up by the smell of Oliver’s french toast later that morning. The other man is sitting on the end of the sofa, holding the plate of food as a peace offering and looking nervous. Connor sits up and reaches for the plate, avoiding looking directly at him.  
“We need to talk,” Oliver finally speaks.  
Connor doesn’t acknowledge him until he’s eaten most of the food on his plate. He may be pissed off, but he’s starving and he’s a sucker for Oliver’s french toast. He finally slows his eating and looks up.  
“I don’t really know what to say to you right now, Oliver.”   
“Connor don’t be like that. I’m sorry, okay?” Oliver rests his hand on Connor’s leg. “I don’t want to start the new year off fighting with you.”  
“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you decided to complain about my so-called walls to my best friend.”   
“I wasn’t trying to complain about you! I was just getting her advice on how to get you to open up to me more.”  
“I’m not hiding anything from you.”  
“Oh come on.” Oliver sounds exasperated. “You shut me out a lot, especially when you’re upset about something. Do you really blame me for questioning if you’re as into this relationship as I am?”  
“Of course I’m invested in this relationship!” Connor snaps, offended. “I’m here almost every fucking day, aren’t I?”  
“God, this is all coming out wrong.” Oliver buries his face into his hands. He groans, then looks back up at Connor. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m crazy about you, okay? I care about you _so_ much, Connor, and I just want to know all of you. Even if it means hearing you talk about being sad over another guy.”  
He wraps his arms around Connor, pulling him close.  
“I’m not trying to take his place, but I am hoping you’ll find some more room in your heart for me. I just want to make you happy,” Oliver whispers, trailing kisses down his neck. “Just give me a chance to show you how to love again.”  
Connor sets the plate down on the coffee table, last slice of french toast forgotten, and turns into Oliver’s embrace.  
“I’m sorry, Ollie.” He whispers as Oliver keeps pressing soft kisses onto his skin. “I’ll try to be more open with you.”  
They lay on the couch for hours, just kissing and holding each other. For once the kisses aren’t leading to anything else, but it feels more intimate than any of the times they’ve had sex. And it’s hard, but Connor makes himself to tell Oliver about Jamie.  
“We’d been together for three years when he got diagnosed with Leukemia. He proposed to me the day he was told he was in remission. We thought he’d be okay.” Connor sniffs. “It came back a few years later, and he was gone within four months.”  
He looks at Oliver, sees the way the other man is looking at him so tenderly, and forces himself to be honest.   
“It still hurts, you know? Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning under the weight of how much I miss him.” He runs his thumb along Oliver’s jaw. “I don’t want you to think that me missing him affects how I feel about you, Ollie, because I really care about you. You make me _so_ happy, I promise. But losing him was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through, and sometimes I feel guilty for being as happy as I am with you. It’s just something I need to work through.”  
Oliver just kisses him gently in response.

 

  
The rest of their day is spent in the same spot on the couch, watching movies and making out. It’s a lazy day, and Connor lets himself just be happy in the moment.   
Things are slowly starting to heat up between them later in the afternoon when Connor’s phone rings.   
“Ignore it,” Oliver tells him, trailing kisses down his chest.  
His phone keeps ringing, though, and Connor finally sighs and pushing Oliver off him.  
“It’s Asher,” he frowns at the caller ID, then answers. “Hello?”  
“It’s Michaela. She has to deliver the baby early,” Asher sounds panicked. “I don’t know what to do. What am I supposed to do?”  
“Asher, calm down, we’ll be right there. What hospital are you at?”  
Asher tells him, and Connor promises that they’ll leave right away. He hangs up, then looks at Oliver, who is sitting with his eyes wide as he listens to Connor’s end of the conversation.  
“Something went wrong with Michaela’s pregnancy. We’ve got to go.”


	5. Chapter 5

Asher is waiting for them in the lobby of the hospital when they arrive. His hair is a mess and his eyes are bloodshot from crying.  
“Are they okay?” Oliver asks him breathlessly.  
Asher nods. “Michaela’s asleep right now, and they’ve taken Jacob to be incubated. It was touch and go for a while but he seems to be doing okay now.”  
Connor pulls him into a hug, patting his back comfortingly, and Asher starts crying again.  
“I was so scared. I never want to feel that helpless again.” He pulls away from Connor, wiping his eyes. “Thanks for coming down here, guys. I really appreciate it.”  
“Of course.” Connor gives him a weak smile. “We’ll wait here with you for as long as you need us.”  
They follow Asher to the maternity ward, settling into the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. Oliver offers to get some sodas, and hurries off to the cafeteria.   
“He’s a good one,” Asher says softly, watching Oliver leave. He sighs, then looks at Connor. “Are you okay being here? I know the last time you were here was with Jamie. I didn’t even think about it before I called you.”  
Connor nods. “I’m working on not letting it get to me as much. And besides, you guys are my best friends. I wouldn’t let that stop me from being here for you.”  
“Remember how easy life used to be when we were still in school?” Asher sighs. “Dealing with adult problems really sucks sometimes.”  
Connor gives a short laugh. “Yeah, I’d take having to pull endless all-nighters studying over all the drama we’ve had these past few years.”  
“It’ll be okay in the end though, right?”  
Connor stays quiet, watching as Oliver appears around the corner, carrying three sodas and trying not to drop them. His heart flutters when they make eye contact and Oliver smiles at him.  
“Yeah, we’re all going to be just fine.”

 -

 

 

The next few months pass quickly. Connor starts going to therapy, to learn how to cope when his grief threatens to overwhelm him. He and Oliver spend their nights and weekends wrapped up in each other, and for the first time in years, Connor is genuinely happy.  


Asher’s mother is in town, so Oliver’s invited Michaela and Asher over for dinner, taking advantage of them finally having someone to watch Jacob for them. They’re out grocery shopping when it happens. Oliver’s wandered off somewhere, leaving Connor to push the cart, and he’s standing in front of the ice cream freezer when he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in well over a year.  
“Connor?”  
He looks over, sees Jamie’s mother’s tight-lipped face. She’s clearly still carrying her grief heavily with her, but she smiles when she sees him.  
“Karen, hey.” He gives her a quick hug. “How are you doing?”  
She sighs. “Still just trying to get through, you know?”   
Connor nods. “Yeah. ”  
“You should stop by the house sometime. I know Dave and the girls would love to see you.”  
Connor’s about to respond, but then he hears Oliver calling him as he appears at the end of the aisle.  
“Hey, Babe? Did you pick out the dessert?”  
Karen’s smile fades as she watches Oliver approach them, and her eyes narrow when Oliver puts his arm around Connor.  
“Hi, I’m Oliver,” he introduces himself, oblivious to the tension his arrival has caused.  
Karen ignores him, fixing her glare on Connor. “You know what, don’t bother coming over. _You disgust me_.”  
She spits the last sentence at him and storms off, abandoning her own shopping cart. Oliver turns to look at Connor in concern.  
“What the hell just happened?”  
“That was Jamie’s mom.” Connor can feel himself starting to tremble. “I need to get out of here. I’m sorry.”  
“Okay, do you want to go wait in the car? Or I can come back later and get everything?”  
“No.” Connor shakes his head. “I just want to be alone right now. I’ll see you back at the apartment, okay?”  
Oliver nods, looking upset. “I’m so sorry, Connor. I didn’t realize who she was.”  
“It’s not your fault.” Connor tries to smile, to reassure him, but he starts crying instead. “I need to go.”  
He turns and flees the store, unsure of where he’s going but desperate to just get as far away as possible. His heart feels like it’s shattering. He hadn’t seen anyone in Jamie’s family in over a year, not since the first anniversary of Jamie’s passing. It had hurt too much, being around the people who reminded him so much of the man he’d lost. And now Jamie’s mother hates him. He runs until his sides ache, then pushes himself to keep running further. He wants his body to hurt as much as his heart does.    
He’d left his cellphone in Oliver’s car, and isn’t wearing a watch, so he has no idea what time it is when he finally starts heading back to the apartment. It’s getting dark out, though, and he assumes his friends are already there, if Oliver hasn’t called them to cancel.

  
He’s drenched with sweat by the time he’s knocking on the door. It opens almost immediately, and Oliver’s concerned face is peering at him.   
“Connor. Oh, thank God.”   
He pulls Connor into a hug, ignoring how sweaty he is, and Connor clings to him. He glances over Oliver’s shoulder and sees Michaela and Asher watching them anxiously.  
“Hey, guys.” He pulls away from Oliver, who keeps his arm around him like he’s scared Connor will flee again if he lets go.  
“You okay?” Michaela asks him hesitantly.   
Connor shrugs. “I’m not sure, to be honest.”  
“O-Man told us what happened.” Asher frowns. “She had no right to say that to you.”  
“Didn’t she?” Connor gives a humorless laugh. “She watched me promise to love her son forever, and now she’s seen me with someone else.”  
“You promised to love him until death do you part.” Asher says. “And, well…”  
“Asher!” Michaela snaps at him, looking furious.   
Connor feels his blood run cold.  
“Right. Well, I’m gonna go have a shower.” He pulls away from Oliver’s embrace and walks numbly into the bathroom. He strips down and stands inside the tub, turning the shower nozzle on. His legs give out on him, and he ends up collapsing into the tub, sobbing as the hot water pours over him. He doesn’t care if the others can hear him, a vindictive part of him even hopes Asher knows just how much his thoughtless words had hurt him.  
He finally pulls himself together and scrubs himself down, then gets out and pulls on his sweatpants and one of Oliver’s shirts. He shuffles out into the living room, where the other three are sitting quietly.   
“Connor, I’m so sorry,” Asher apologizes as soon as he sees Connor. “I’m a fucking idiot, you know that.”  
“It’s fine.” It isn’t, they all know that, but Connor doesn’t feel like arguing tonight.   
He takes a seat beside Oliver on the couch, cuddling into his side, and Oliver immediately wraps his arms around him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He can tell Oliver is relieved that he isn’t shutting him out, and he takes Oliver’s hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.   
Dinner is filled with quiet conversations, their usual banter missing, and their friends make an excuse to leave almost immediately after. Connor can tell Asher still feels awful, but he’s too upset with him to bother fixing it tonight. Michaela gives him a tight hug goodnight, apologizing again for her husband’s mistake. Connor just smiles at her weakly, telling her he’ll see her at work on Monday.  
And then he’s alone with Oliver.  
He turns to face his boyfriend, who is looking at him with a concerned expression on his face.  
“Ollie.”   
Oliver’s at his side in an instant. “I’m here, Connor.”  
“Can we do the dishes tomorrow? I just really need you right now.”  
“Of course.”  
Connor leads Oliver into the bedroom, then starts stripping down. Oliver just looks at him.  
“Are you sure you’re up for this right now?”  
“I’m always up for sex with you,” he tries to joke. His voice sounds flat, but Oliver laughs anyway.   
Oliver’s touches and caresses are more tender than normal, like he’s afraid Connor will break, but he still manages to take him apart, to have him gasping and moaning his name. Connor cries out when comes, louder than he usually does. Oliver follows soon after. He stays inside Connor for a moment, kissing him passionately, then pulls out and disposes of the condom. Connor grabs a dirty shirt off the floor, using it to wipe the cum off his stomach, then drops it on the floor again, not bothering to try aim it for the laundry basket.   
Oliver climbs onto the bed again, and Connor curls up into his side, pulling the duvet over them.   
“Are you doing okay?” Oliver asks him hesitantly, and Connor nods.  
“Yeah. Karen’s reaction really hurt, but I know she’s just angry over losing Jamie.” He looks up at Oliver. “I’m sorry I ran out on you at the store. I just really needed to be alone to clear my head, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”  
“I’d worry about you regardless, you mean everything to me.” Oliver tells him, his face flushing slightly. “I love you, Connor.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. This fic started as a oneshot because I needed to take a break from the longer angst-filled fic I'm writing, and it turned into this. Thanks to everyone who left nice comments and requested more. I hope it didn't disappoint you.

“Michaela!” Connor hisses the moment he sees her walk past his office door on Monday morning. He leaps up from his desk and pulls her into the room, shutting the door quickly. “I need to talk to you.”  
“Connor? Are you okay?” She looks concerned. “If this is about Asher, I’ve already spent the entire weekend yelling at him, and he feels terrible.”  
“I don’t care about Asher,” he tells her. “I need your help.”  
“With what?”  
“Oliver told me he loves me.”  
Michaela gasps, a hand flying up to cover her mouth. She starts grinning, but quickly stops when she sees the look on Connor’s face. “Are you not happy about that?”  
“I am,” Connor tells her. “But I didn’t know what to say and now I think he’s upset.”  
“So you just stayed quiet when he told you?”  
“Well, yeah. I just kissed him and then we had sex again. Twice.”  
“Too much information, Connor.” Michaela makes a disgusted face. “So, he told you he loves you, you guys had sex, but now you think he’s upset with you?”  
“He just seemed incredibly sad afterwards, and he was quiet all of yesterday.”   
“Do you not love him back?”  
Connor falls silent, and Michaela sighs.  
“If you’re not in love with him, that’s fine. But if you are, that’s fine too. You know that, right? But you need to be fair to him and tell him, because that man adores you, Connor, and he deserves better than to be left hanging like this.”  
Connor bites his lower lip. “I’m scared.”  
“Why?”  
“Because if I admit that I love him, it’ll cheapen what I had with Jamie!” Connor paces across the room, frustrated.   
“Okay, listen up.” Michaela’s voice is stern, and Connor immediately stops and looks at her. “You really think you can only ever love one person in your life? That’s bullshit, Connor, and you need to get your stubborn head out of your ass and realize that before you lose that man.”  
“Wow, don’t hold anything back why don’t you.”  
She glares at him. “You’re my best friend, but you are such an idiot sometimes! Jamie is gone. And yeah, it sucks! You’re allowed to be angry about being made a widower in your late twenties. You’re allowed to miss him. But you are **not** allowed to convince yourself that you can’t love anyone else for the rest of your life. I won’t let you.”  
She pauses and walks over to him, and when she speaks again her voice is gentler. “I read a line in a book once, that there are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice. And it’s true, isn’t it? You loved Jamie, and now you love Oliver. That doesn’t make what you felt for Jamie any less real. It’s just a different love.”  
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I.”  
“Yes, we’ve already established that.”  
“Shut up!” Connor laughs, shoving her. “Can you cover for me? Tell Annalise I got sick or something.”  
“Where are you going?”  
“To get my head out of my ass.”  
He takes off before she can respond, thankfully making it out of the building without his boss seeing him.

 

  
His apartment is quiet when he arrives. He hasn’t been there for more than ten minutes at a time since he’d had the breakdown on Jamie’s birthday. He grabs all the suitcases he can find, filling them with all his belongings that aren’t already at Oliver’s. He takes Jamie’s favorite sweater, too, because he isn’t quite ready to give up everything yet.  
It takes him all day to sort through everything, and it’s starting to get dark outside when he finally leaves, lugging the suitcases with him.  
Oliver is in the kitchen when he arrives, so busy cooking that he doesn’t hear Connor come in.   
Connor leaves his bags by the door, then walks up behind Oliver and wraps his arms around his waist. Oliver turns around into his embrace and kisses him.  
“Hey, where were you?”  
“I spent the day at my apartment.”  
“Oh.” Oliver’s face falls, and Connor hates that Oliver probably thinks he had another breakdown.  
“I spent the day packing.”  
“What?” Oliver looks confused.  
“I just think it’s time I got out of that lease, don’t you? I mean, I spend all my time here with you anyway, I may as well stop paying rent on an apartment I never use anymore.” He knows he’s babbling, but he can’t stop himself. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this point, but I’m here now.”  
Oliver’s eyes are shining while he listens to him with baited breath, like he can’t believe that Connor is saying this to him.  
“I love you, Ollie. And I’m yours, completely.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr at lilafowlers


End file.
